


Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

by Cyan (vehicroids)



Category: South Park
Genre: Character Death, Horror Elements, I don't know how to tag this omfg, M/M, cloning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehicroids/pseuds/Cyan
Summary: Craig wasn't dealing very well with Tweek's death. Craig, however, was not out of options.





	Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Creek Secret Santa, for [Lilith](http://thesecondhuman.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! I'm sorry, I don't know enough about horror, but I hope this is good enough! D: Happy holidays!

They said it was an accident, that it was just the wrong place at the wrong time. The doctors said there was nothing they could do to save Tweek. Craig’s mom was the one to break the news, as gently as she could. There was no easy way of saying it, but she tried - something Craig could appreciate, even at the time. She had sat him down at the kitchen table to break the news to him.

Craig’s heart broke slowly, like a crack in a windshield. With every bump, every new piece of information, the crack grew, until eventually, the whole glass shattered. He couldn’t listen to it. He pushed his chair back and left the room, before bolting from the house. He didn’t know where he was going, but he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t hear another word. It wasn’t  _ real _ .

He found himself at the Tweak residence - his legs had carried him here from sheer reflex. He pounded on the door, hoping Tweek would answer in a panic like he usually would. Except, instead of being met by Tweek, he was met by Richard. The man’s shoulders slumped when he laid eyes on Craig, and without a word, he knew what the man was going to say. He knew this was real.

“I’m sorry,” Craig managed to say quietly, “so sorry about…”

“Thanks, Craig. Do you wanna come in?” Richard asked, but Craig shook his head. 

“No, I-- I have to go. I just wanted to… I’m sorry.”

Before Richard could say anything else, Craig ran. He couldn’t stop running: running from home, running from the Tweaks, running from the truth. This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the end. Then it dawned on Craig.

It didn’t have to be the end.

Strange happenings weren’t uncommon in South Park. If one knew where to look, they could make anything happen. Craig wasn’t a firm believer in the unknown, but at that point, he would believe anything if it meant having Tweek back. He would exhaust every avenue possible to bring him back.

His first clue: Doctor Mephesto’s laboratory. His expertise was gene splicing and adding things that should not be added to creatures, but he had to know something. Craig made his way up to the laboratory by himself on a dark and thundering night, with nothing but his phone as a torch. He wasn’t a fan, but he couldn’t ask his friends for help on this. They would think he had lost his mind, and maybe he had, but he couldn’t let Tweek go.

Craig pressed on the buzzer, expecting no reply. A voice crackled on an old speaker, barely comprehensible.

“Yes?” the voice on the other end - Mephesto himself, Craig assumed - answered.

“Is this…” Craig shook his head. He knew where this was. “I’m Craig Tucker.”

“Oh, yes, come on in.”

The gate buzzed, then clicked. Craig hesitated, before brushing his hand against the handle. He opened the gate and walked in, and it slammed shut behind him, then gave a little click. Craig swallowed, before making his way to the laboratory. The trees around him rustled, a stiff breeze threatening to knock off his hat. He pulled it down over his head, then made his way to the front door.

He had made an appointment with Mephesto a few days ago, the day he found out Tweek had gone. It may not have led anywhere, but it was a start. He would rather take the scientific route before taking to the occult and witchcraft; science was, at least, real.

As he reached the front door, it swung open for him, but no one was behind it. An automatic door, he assumed as he stepped in. Craig tried to shift the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it refused to budge.

Craig soon realised that he had no clue where to go. He was lost in a field of test tubes and horrific monstrosities. He moved closer to one of the containment chambers, examining it closely. Inside sat a creature that looked like a splice between a horse and a man, though with a horse's head and a man's lower body.

“Ah, yes, what you've found is the world's first centaur,” Mephesto said.

Craig turned around. “Isn't it supposed to have horse legs and a human upper body?”

“I'm still working out the kinks.” Mepheso gestured at Craig. “Follow me.”

Hesitantly, Craig followed the man through the lab, looking around at the monsters Mephesto had created. What if he turned Tweek into one of these things?  _ As long as he was alive _ , Craig told himself, but was that really good enough? He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore his own thoughts. He couldn’t back down now.

“I can’t bring people back to life, I’m afraid,” Mephesto said, “but I can do something better. I can create a new version of him. Better and stronger.”

Craig shot a pointed look at a monkey, that looked at him like it was begging for death. “I don’t want you to alter him. I want  _ him _ .”

“I’ll see what I can do. Did you bring the DNA?”

Craig nodded. It wasn’t easy to obtain; he had to go to Tweek’s house for it and talk to his parents. He spent a day with them, swapping stories, as he found a discreet way of sneaking Tweek’s (hardly used) hairbrush into his backpack. There was enough hair within the bristles for Mephesto to use, he figured. If Tweek’s parents found out what Craig was doing, how would they react? Craig didn’t want to know. He would never find out.

Craig reached into his backpack and handed the brush over to Mephesto. He examined the brush, then hummed. He put it down on a counter, before turning back to Craig.

“I’ll call you when it’s done, then you can pick him up,” Mephesto said.

“Sure, yeah, thanks,” Craig mumbled. “I, um… thanks again, Doctor Mephesto.”

Craig bolted out of there as soon as he could. He didn’t want to think about his choices. Something told him that what he was doing was  _ wrong _ , clawing at his gut like an animal wanting out. Craig knew what he was doing was the right thing, however. Tweek’s parents would be so happy. Tweek would be happy. He could be happy with Craig. It would be like nothing ever happened.

Tweek’s funeral had come to pass, and Craig didn’t know how to feel. Soon, this funeral would have been pointless; Tweek would come back to them. Craig didn’t react to any of the speeches, and he didn’t react to any mourning relatives. He remained stone-faced, which he knew Tweek would have hated, but he couldn’t muster any emotion, not when he knew Tweek was going to be fine. No one else knew. They would know soon enough.

Days passed, and Mephesto hadn’t called. Craig expected the worst, that it hadn’t worked and that he should learn to mourn Tweek. If he had thought about this more, he wouldn’t have done it. He  _ shouldn’t _ have done it. Grief did terrible things to a man.

Two weeks passed before Craig’s phone lit up - a call from Mephesto. Craig didn’t want to answer, he had a feeling he would dislike the answer either way. He ignored the first call, shoving his phone under a pillow before going back to studying. By the second call, his fingers began to twitch, his curiosity pecking at him like hungry vultures. At the first bell of the third call, Craig dove under his pillows and fished his phone.

“Sorry,” he said as he answered the phone, “I was studying. Hello, Doctor Mephesto.”

“I was wondering if you’d ever pick up. I have good news for you, Craig. He’s ready.”

_ He’s ready _ . Those two words made Craig’s hair stand on end, and he found himself asking the same question, over and over again: had he done the right thing? He didn’t know, but he was going to find out. He told Mephesto he would come over tomorrow after school, and ended the call. One way or another, Craig would have to live with what he had done.

Craig considered skipping class the next day, too agitated to wait. There was something about skipping class to fetch his cloned boyfriend that made his skin crawl, so he didn’t. He stayed at school, despite the growing unease.  _ What have I done? _

The regret would dissipate when he saw Tweek. At least, that was the hope.

Craig told his parents he would be late that evening, but he didn’t say why. He didn’t know what his plan was. Take Tweek back to his parents’? Take him back to Craig’s? He had no plan, but he would figure it out. It would be worth it, just to have Tweek back.

Craig reached Mephesto’s gate, but no matter how many times he rung the bell, there was no answer. The gate was locked. Fuck it. Craig had no choice but to climb the gate. His feet slid on the sleek metal, pathetically kicking his legs to stay against the gate. He hoisted himself up and over the gate, landing softly on the other side. This didn’t seem right at all.

The lab was silent from the outside. There was no wind, no air, and Craig felt like he was slowly suffocating. He ran to the door and pounded on the wood, but there was no reply. No sound. Nothing. Craig didn’t know what was going on, but now, he needed to know. He steeled himself, shoulder out, before charging into the door. The door was flimsy - that explained how it opened by itself - and broke easily, despite Craig’s skinny frame.

The lights were out. Craig stepped in something that  _ squished _ underfoot, and Craig recoiled. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed the torch function. He couldn’t see a lot; smashed glass and unidentifiable liquids. He made a mental note to stay away from the puddles. He took slow, careful steps along the debris, though he still felt the crunch of glass sometimes.

He didn’t know what was in here, but he needed to know what happened. Was Tweek safe? He moved quicker, his footsteps echoing in the quiet halls.

“Doctor Mephesto?” he called, but there was no answer. “Mephesto!”

Nothing. Not a sound. So Craig ran. He didn’t know where he was running to, but he kept going. He ran past torn machinery, past torn wires and busted doors. Something in one of those torn doors caught his eye, and he stopped.

There was a faint light emanating from one of the few functional machines. In the light, Craig could see the shape of a man; large, slumped against the wall. Craig knew who this was. He rushed in and dropped to his knees, examining the old man’s face. He was alive, at the very least. He wasn’t bleeding, not that Craig could see, but that wasn’t his focus.

Mephesto’s fingers twitched uselessly by his side as he looked up at Craig with tired eyes. For a brief flash, every worst case scenario played in his head, but nothing could prepare Craig for the truth.

“He’s escaped,” Mephesto choked out.

“Escaped?”

Tweek wasn’t strong, not physically. There was no way he could have caused all this damage. Unless- Craig grabbed Mephesto by the shoulders.

“What did you do to him?” Craig asked, shaking him.

“I was trying to make him better, stronger, and I- I may have overdone it,” Mephesto choked.

“I told you not to change anything!” Craig hissed through his teeth. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, but you have to find him.”

Craig let go of Mephesto and stood. He had to go and find Tweek, or whatever he was now.

He made it back to town, and the one thing Craig noticed was the calm, the same eerie calm from the laboratory. A chill hit his spine. Where would Tweek be? Except this wasn’t Tweek, this was an altered version, without any of his memories. He was unpredictable.  _ Dangerous _ . Craig needed to find him before he hurt someone. Would Tweek want something safe, or would he want to cause harm? Regular Tweek loved safety, but…

Tweek felt the most safe at Craig’s house.  _ Shit, his family. _ He rushed over to his house, and to his relief, the door was intact. Everything was still in one piece. He stepped into the house and looked around; everything was untouched. Maybe Tweek wasn’t here.

Then Craig heard a thud in his room. Tweek was here.

Craig had to be careful. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen, fear rising in his chest. It would be fine, he told himself. Every regret came bubbling to the surface as he creeped up the stairs. Another thud. He put his hand on the door, before gently pushing it open.

He expected his room to be trashed. He expected a creature to tear him apart. It was neither of these things. All Craig found was Tweek, sitting on his bed. He had wrapped himself in one of Craig’s jackets, staring at the floor. Craig dropped the knife.

“Tweek?” Craig asked.

Tweek looked at him, and the glimmer in his eyes wasn’t human. His mouth was slightly open, revealing sharp teeth. Tweek wasn’t himself - he wasn’t human. What had Mephesto done to him? Tweek sat still, watching him. Craig took a step closer, but Tweek flinched. Craig reached out his hand.

“Do you recognise me?” Craig asked, but Tweek didn’t move. “Can you even understand me?”

Tweek just stared, shrinking further into the jacket. Craig sighed as he combed his fingers through his hair.

“Well, shit. What am I gonna do with you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](vehicroids.tumblr.com) or my [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/vehicroids/)


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